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Many things which he had but dimly understood before, began to be plain to him, as he sat with eyes riveted upon Smillie's face, drinking in every word as the speaker plead with the men to unite and defend themselves.
"That's it, Bob," agreed Geordie, completely carried away with Smillie's enthusiasm. "That's it, Bob. If we can only get them to see hoo' simple and easy it a' is ... Oh, they maun be made to see it that way!" he burst out. "We'll work nicht an' day but in the end we'll get them to see it that way yet." "Yes, but it won't be easy, Geordie," he replied.
The under-dog is more excusable in its aims, but its methods aren't any more attractive. Juke can swallow it all. But Jukie has let his naturally clear head get muddled by a mediaeval form of religion. Religion is like love; it plays the devil with clear thinking. Juke pretended not to hate even Smillie's interview with the coal dukes. He applauded when Smillie quoted texts at them.
A good many people, of course, wanted and want revolution and the International. I don't, and never did. I hate red-flaggery, and all other flaggery. The sentimentalism of Bob Smillie is as bad as the sentimentalism of the Pinkerton press; as untruthful, as greedy, as muddle-headed. Smillie's lot are out to get, and the Potterites out to keep.
Conferences were held, and the whole matter threshed out from every angle. The miners were united as they had never been before and the whole of the British miners were determined to use their organization to enforce their demands. It was a triumph for Smillie's genius, the climax of his dream, to have them united as one body to fight what he called their real enemies.
This was Robert Smillie's task, and who shall say, looking at the rank and file to-day, that he has failed? Eight years passed, and Robert grew into young manhood. One of his younger brothers had joined him and Andrew Marshall in the partnership. It had been a long, stiff struggle, and his mother knew all the hardness and cruelty of it.
Robert Smillie's own unaided hands' but I waived the question coming from that hypothesis, and other questions that would have followed; for I wished to be happy while I might.
I hear great stories aboot how Bob Smillie's gettin' on wi' the union that he started doon the west country." "I ken Bob fine," said Geordie. "He's a fine fellow. I worked next wall to him doon there a while, an' a better chap ye couldna' get." "I hear that he's gotten as muckle as tippence on the ton to some o' the miners who ha'e joined. I'm gaun to join whenever it can be started."
"Nearly everybody at Miss Smillie's was from some where else." "Well, it's pretty late to think about that now," grumbled Lapham. "And we've always gone our own way, and not looked out for the future. We ought to have gone out more, and had people come to the house. Nobody comes." "Well, is that my fault? I guess nobody ever makes people welcomer." "We ought to have invited company more."
Smillie's a fine man, an' I like him," he said with simple enthusiasm. "He is that, Rob. I've aye liked Bob for the way he has had to fecht. Lod, I dinna ken hoo he has managed to come through it a'. He's been a gran' frien' to the miners. What kin' o' a man is Hardie?" "He's yin o' the finest men I ever met," he answered in quick enthusiasm. "You would hae enjoyed hearin' him, mither.
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